


With Them, With Us

by pascalleeos



Series: So Says Our Hearts [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Action/Adventure, Conversations, Friendship, M/M, Other, Platonic Relationships, Protective Siblings, Romance, Sibling Bonding, Slow Romance, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:21:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15412809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pascalleeos/pseuds/pascalleeos
Summary: After Alisaie and the Warrior of Light are trapped by a surprise attack from the Imperials, they must confront some lingering fears about their connections to Alphinaud.





	With Them, With Us

**Author's Note:**

> The second piece in my exploration of my Warrior of Light and his relationship with Alphinaud and, by association, Alisaie. This was my attempt at writing other characters as well as adding in an original character of my pal's (you'll hear her name mentioned as Ivy Higgs!). Altogether, I had a lot of fun with this and it was great to explore the different voices. I hope they come through well!

“Eyes forward. Back straight. You want to be limber, but not stiff.”

The words came in a serious candor, drifting from the voice of the critical bard, pacing back and forth as he gave a glance over his temporary charges. Though there was a bit of practiced patience in his tone, he was not altogether comfortable in the position he’d been thrust into at the last moment. He was a fighter, not a teacher. But even so, it had been at the request of Conrad that he’d allow for some time with some of the newer recruits for the resistance. To give them a bit of… pep talks and training. Neither of which the Warrior of Light was particularly practiced at, but far be it from him to ignore the simple fact that people found his words encouraging. Even if they be said with some moderate amount of discomfort.

And so he found himself at the head of a ‘class’, so to speak; a haphazard training lesson put together at the last minute as he gave a few tips and tricks to those who had little fighting experience to begin with. Ala Mhigans were rough and tumble from birth, that much was true. But Conrad was not foolish enough to send them in to be fodder for the imperials without some marginal preparation to bolster their chances of survival and success.

“Where I use a bow, you wield a sword. Or a shield. Or whatever weapon you have chosen to guide you through battle. You must begin to consider it an extension of yourself. Another limb to be utilized in the motion and flow of your body.” A teacher, he was not, though the Warrior of Light spoke from the heart, hoping to inspire if nothing else. Unfamiliar was he with the ways of the swordsmen and lancers, but the principal was the same. But even so, it was not so much the recruits’ gazes that gave him pause to consider his words. Instead, he was focused on the attention he was receiving from his fellow Scions. Not all were preoccupied with duties right at the moment. And so it had seemed that an impromptu audience had formed. That is what had him nervous. Especially considering the Leveilleur twins had a seat front and center. And their eyes had a tendency to be the most critical of all…

—

In the passing months since his admission to Alphinaud, both Scions found themselves drawn to each other in this way and in that. Though it was not in the typical fashion that they discovered the trick to spending time together. It was no casual stroll through the field nor luncheon by the water’s edge. Instead, the Warrior would waste away hours of the evenings, listening to Alphinaud’s theories and methodology; his stratagem and excitement that bubbled beneath the surface of his being as they spoke of the liberation of Doma and Ala Mhigo in tandem. It was their eventual goal that tied them both and meant that even if their circumstance prevented them from living out the romantic fantasy that which all fair maidens dreamt of, they would still find ways to reinforce their bond.

It was no secret, the way they exchanged passing glances and the occasional brush of hands when privacy allowed it. Though, much to the relief of them both, if anyone noticed, no one said as much. There was no real time to put an end to rumor and gossip, nor to really entertain it, and thus, even though the Warrior was not at all ashamed of what feelings he harbored for Alphinaud, it was better for them both if they made no fuss about it. So while it did not bear to remain a secret, nor was it spoken about so freely.

By all except one. And one who would make it well known that she was fully aware of their arrangement. Though this too was no surprise. After all, Alisaie had always been one to speak her mind, regardless of what result befell either her or anyone else involved. It was that intuition that had guided her suspicion of Urianger in the aftermath of the Dragonsong War, after all. But it was still a gift. And one that maybe the Warrior of Light would come to be appreciative of. In the coming days, anyway. For now, he found it a little… intimidating. The way she would glance over at him from time to time when he parted from Alphinaud after a brief respite always made him nervous. As if she were judging him. And perhaps she was, though he could not say for sure.

Even now as he instructed his class, he would glance up every now and again to see both Alphinaud’s interested gaze and Alisaie’s thoughtful stare. Both made him more than a little queasy for different reasons. But he maintained his composure and refocused on the few men and women before him, clearing his throat and gesturing with his hands.

“Right, so which one of you wants to show me what you’ve got?” The Warrior asked, bringing a fist up and pounding it with resolution into his opposite palm. A bold request for those who knew his history and what he was capable of. And maybe it was a little too bold. Because the response he gleaned was pretty much what he expected. Some stunned silence a hesitation. Though he’d not asked to preen his ego. Just to tease. Somewhat. But to his surprise, there was an eventual breaking of silence. Not by his temporary students, but instead by one of the audience who stood and watched behind them.

“Not to steal focus from your charges, but… If no one else is to offer, mayhap I can provide an effective response to your challenge?”

Aptly phrased, the Warrior thought. For Alisaie was giving him an equally bold look as she stepped forward with a casual shrug that almost defeated the purpose of her words. She not only intended to provide him with a means to prove his own merit but to also convince him of her own skill. Not that he particularly needed convincing, but… There was a motive here. And he’d yet to discern it fully. Though she did not offer him much time to do so.

“If it pleases you,” the Warrior responded in kind, offering her a friendly, though daring smile. I know you’re up to something, his expression stated. I just don’t know what yet. “I think these young soldiers can stand to see a whole swath of fighting styles to determine their own when out in the field. It would do them some good to bear witness to your way with the blade.”

Flattery will get you nowhere, Alisaie’s sharp glance told him in response. Damn. She’d read him like a book. She was good at that.

But he was loathe to let the nonverbal exchange linger, producing his bow and offering her a small bow. There was a nod given to the soldiers who stepped away from the area and took to standing back to where Alphinaud and Lyse both watched. The former, seemingly embarrassed and trying to hide his underlying curiosity, while the latter clapped her hands in excitement. It wasn’t often that friends challenged each other. Though Lyse was of a mind to put the idea on the backburner. Perhaps she could get a sparring session in with the Warrior of Light next…

But for now, it was Alisaie’s turn, producing that glittery and shining sword that she’d been gifted by Urianger. It had become a part of her at this point, and it was difficult to recall what she’d been like without it. But pretty as it was in appearance, so too was it deadly in both strength and accuracy. The bard had been witness to it in action more than once and though he hadn’t expected to be facing it in a spar before now, he certainly knew what it was capable of. There would be no padding of his own prowess if he were to stand a chance of being the victor against Alisaie’s relentless ability.

“Have at you, Warrior of Light.”

He recognized that for what it was. This was no typical friendly challenge. She was testing him, almost. But that was fine. Even if she was setting herself up to have the upper hand and the second strike, he was quick and would make her work for it. His accuracy was deadly, though he made it clear that he was inviting her retaliation by drawing back and letting loose the first arrow. There was enough care to ensure that he didn’t outright skewer her - nor anyone else in the vicinity - but she hardly needed his help. Where he prided himself on his speed, Alisaie was quick to match it, closing the distance between them without any real effort and making it that much more harrowing to avoid that blade. Suffice it to say, the Warrior of Light was good at range. Not this close up. But his bow was sturdy and provided enough of a buffer to the swinging sword, blocking it about as effectively as he could while reeling back to put more distance between them.

Even that, however, was of no real relief to him. Not only did she have the physical ability, but that sword was infused with all kinds of aetherial magic. The bard would find no reprieve from her onslaught of attacks. She differed in that way from her more strategically inclined brother, preferring instead to simply overwhelm instead of outwit. It was a notable difference, if not one that he was a little intimidated by. It meant that he would have to go out of his comfort zone, relying on fancy footwork and on the defense as she refused to relent. From time to time, he would loose another arrow with his own blend of light and sound, but beyond one graze of her non-dominant hand, she avoided all the rest. He had to admit that this was certainly making a good show for the young recruits, though he would hesitate to attribute it to himself. No, this was about Alisaie’s sudden growth as a fighter and a defender, whether or not she intended it to be as such.

But the Warrior of Light was nevertheless happy to set the stage for the explosive dynamo.

Somewhere in the middle of the row, the bard lost his footing, taking half a step back too short and meeting the ground not shortly after. Whether or not it was on purpose would be the talk of the camp later on, but in truth, he was simply tired. It had been a long campaign, especially when they’d lost no time in moving to Rhalgr’s Reach almost immediately after their time in Ishgard. It had been a long while since he’d had a proper rest and he would attribute that falter in step to that exhaustion. But Alisaie was wont to take advantage, meeting the Warrior with a swing of her blade which he met only by a breath with his bow. The collision rocked the earth around them and produced a wave of wind and dust. It was enough for Conrad to step in and interrupt, clearly pleased with the amount of expertise that the younger recruits had been allowed to witness.

“I think that is a fine enough demonstration for one day, you two,” he said, though it was cheerful. Perhaps he too had enjoyed the sparring session. But not all day could be dedicated to being an audience. “My recruits have some other assignments to take care of. But perhaps they can ask questions later if that be alright with the both of you.”

The bard breathed out a bit of a relieved sigh. Alisaie had him on the ropes, really. And he was thankful for the interrupted, lest they both get a little carried away. But she seemed alright and he was none the worse for wear, so they were both quick to dust themselves off and get back to their feet, both offering a nod to the commander who offered them a wave and then redirected himself back to the soldiers. They would all eventually drift off to take care of other things, though many of them looked disappointed to be taken away from the ‘action’, so to speak.

“Well, I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy myself,” Alisaie said after a moment of brief respite, reaching up to run fingers through her hair to straight it out and allow it to lay flat once again. They’d both gotten a bit tousled up in the mix, though it was to be expected.

“You hardly gave me time to think, I’ll tell you that much,” the Warrior offered in reply, still a bit winded, but otherwise alright. He could feel a sting of a cut somewhere on his lower torso, but he paid it no mind for now. He could sense that it was not bleeding and it wouldn’t do to bother anyone about something he could take care of himself. It was likely that others would fuss more than the injury - though he was loathe to call it that - really warranted.

“Then you’ll forgive me if I ask you to in a moment. I’d actually been hoping that we could - “

“I hope you two are sufficiently proud of yourselves,” came the somewhat haughty tone of Alphinaud as he strolled up alongside them, looking critically at the state they were in: roughed up and a little bit dirty and all sorts of other things he could mention but didn’t at that very moment in favor of looking like a distraught parent. “There are other ways to give appropriate demonstrations, you know. A striking dummy seems a better target than each other.”

“A dummy is not really a substitute for an imperial,” Lyse added as she joined them. “By showing them that our opponent can be just as quick and crafty, it can prepare them for an enemy that is ill content to rest on their laurels and let our forces get in the first strike. They should be quick on their feet if they want to stand a chance. Though admittedly, not all imperials will be as formidable as the Warrior of Light.”

Alphinaud sighed and shook his head, though he found it difficult to argue with Lyse’s logic. And all the bard could offer them both was a slight shrug and a small smile. You would not find an argument from him either.

“Well, if you require something else to keep you busy in light of your interrupted contest, we received a message from General Aldynn earlier today,” Alphinaud began again. “It was not urgent, so I thought it best to wait until we’d gathered, but I suppose now is as good a time as any. He made us aware of an outcrop not far from the Reach. About six hundred yalms to the north. An imperial unit has been staked out there, ready to ambush anyone who decides to venture that way. The report is that they have a few Magitek Reapers with them, though luckily, no operations have asked any of our men to venture out that way. All the same, it’s important that we dispatch them before we push forward into the region with our men.”

“And you found it prudent to assign one of us to the task then?” Alisaie questioned, folding arms across her chest as if critical of her brother’s decision. Though she had a tendency to look like that always. Alphinaud responded without missing a beat.

“Two of you, actually,” he said, turning to the Warrior, albeit mildly apologetic as he did. “I was hoping you and Alisaie would. If you’re not too tired from your lesson just now.”

“Hardly,” the bard responded. “I’m sure we can manage just fine.” After all, he’d certainly noted the sentence that she’d been cut off from saying. She had been meaning to tell him something, of that he was sure. He just didn’t know what. This would be a decent opportunity to get it out of her. And it seemed as though she agreed, judging by the slight cant of her head which indicated a ‘may as well’ attitude.

“Come along then,” she said to the Warrior. “We’ll have this taken care of in no time.”

—

Traversing the dusty grounds of the land outside of the Reach was nothing new to either the bard or Alisaie. But being a little sore and roughed up definitely made it a little more difficult to get out and actually do the task they’d been given. Curious as he was to ask what she’d been about to say earlier in the camp, he kept himself silent, eyes and ears open for imperial soldiers. If there were reapers about, he’d need to be on point with his senses, lest they get ambushed.

“Look,” Alisaie murmured as they rounded the outcrop that Alphinaud had spoken of earlier. They had drifted close to the cliffside, ledges overlooking them above as they ducked behind a group of boulders that would conceal them for a brief time. A few yalms away stood the imperial patrol they’d been tracking, though it was distinctly missing something…

“Where are the reapers…?” The Warrior asked, head tilted in confusion. Surely a scout couldn’t have imagined the large hulking magitek devices. So where…-?

His question was answered by a sudden explosion above their heads that rocked the cliff face and sent shattered stone down onto them. There was little time to act before those splinters were being followed by much larger chunks.

“Alisaie!” It was a gut reaction that had him leaping over to get arms around her and pull her against the side of the cliff, hoping that they wouldn’t be subsequently crushed. Neither of them had been given enough time to react before they were suddenly entombed in rock and rubble. Trapped, but not killed. Even if both of them had taken a fair beating from the avalanche, the bard more than the red mage. But quick thinking could only do so much. Opening his eyes to complete darkness might have been more frightening had he not been wholly aware of the fact that he was still practically entangled with Alisaie, not moving to separate until he was sure the earth had stopped shifting.

“…Are you alright?” He asked, tentatively. As though he were afraid that he’d not been an effective shield and he would get no response at all. To his relief, it came fairly quickly, even if she was short of breath and a little more than alarmed herself.

“Yes… Yes I think I am. Are you?”

“I think so. It’s a bit too dark to tell for sure.” He was aching. Something had hit him somewhere but he was feeling it too well in the rest of his limbs to pinpoint exactly where. He kept it to himself, for now, eager to discern exactly what had happened and where they were now, besides the very obvious fact that they were in what was essentially an impromptu mausoleum.

“They meant to crush us,” Alisaie offered before his thoughts could wander too far. She pulled away from him after a moment to give herself some room to breathe and moved to stand. Reassuring both herself and the Warrior that she was still mobile. “Suffice to say, they failed.”

“Only trapped us instead…” the bard replied in an unhappy murmur. “They must have had the reapers above us where we couldn’t see them. They knew someone was coming.”

“The question is, did they know you were coming? Or were they just hoping to send a message in general? There are too many unknowns here. The biggest one being how do we get out of here?” Her tone shifted into frustration, giving a frustrated push against one of the rocks that was closing them in. It shuddered, but not enough to budge, only further solidifying the notion that they were certainly trapped.

The Warrior could feel a bit of moisture dripping from his forehead. Unsure whether it was sweat or blood and not entirely sure he wanted to find out. So he brought a hand up to wipe it away before it could fall into his eyes, reaching back and into his quiver to retrieve one of his solid arrows. It could make for a miniature lance if seen in the right light, and he had a mind to try to use it as leverage.

“May as well give this a go…” he mumbled before rearing back to jam the arrow into a crack in between two rocks in particular, only stopping a few inches from actually doing it by Alisaie’s sudden interjection.

“Wait! Excuse my exclamation, but are you raving mad? We have no idea how much debris is above us! One wrong shift and we could be buried proper!”

…Well. That certainly made him think twice, bringing his arrow slowly back to himself and then back and into its quiver, clearing his throat. “I suppose that’s why you and your brother do most of the thinking…” A bit disappointed in himself for not coming to that conclusion, but there was little to be done about it now. They would have to think of something else. Not even the linkpearls were providing a means of communication. The staticy and garbled noise that they were giving off all but confirmed that the rocks were interfering with the signal.

“Yes, it is,” Alisaie agreed with a stern nod, though it faded in the face of what they were actually up against. She could only stay silent in thought for a brief time before bringing her sword out and planting the blade into the ground to keep it upright, lighting the darkness around them. Glancing upwards, her attention was pulled to the Warrior’s face and she frowned, drifting over to reach up and wipe at his forehead for him. Pulling back her hand, it was clearly coated in blood and she about said as much when she stated, “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” the bard replied, hoping to assuage her worry with a half-cocked smile. “We should focus on the task at hand, yes? Getting out of here is more important than a small wound.” To that, Alisaie could only sigh and shake her head. But she had little else to offer him before turning and glancing at their surroundings, taking steps towards individual spots as if testing it for instabilities or looking for a way out that had yet to present itself. All the while, the Warrior felt relatively useless in turn. His eyes were not yet adjusted to the darker tomb. He was a Seeker of the Sun. They were not meant for dark places. And so eventually he gave his own sigh and sat, reaching up to hold his head some while he let the aching throbs subside. He had to wonder how hard he’d been hit…

“I’m sure you’ve inspected that rock at least three times now,” he mumbled to Alisaie after some time had passed. He could feel himself growing frustrated with the situation and he was certain that she was feeling the same. But she didn’t say as much as the bard ended up sitting down in the dirt, looking over at her as she joined him soon after. She was not the sort to give up easily, this he knew. So either she was taking a brief moment of respite or their situation truly was hopeless.

He chose to believe the former, for now. Even if there was a sinking feeling in the pit of his gut that said otherwise.

“Mayhap we’ll be able to think once we take a moment to rest. Surely, there must be a way out that we have yet to think of,” Alisaie said after a few seconds of silence.

“We will. A few minutes and we will.” The Warrior did his best to be reassuring, though he had to admit to himself, if no one else, that their chances were slim. But even if she knew that; she didn’t need to know that he knew that. So… a distraction, it seemed, was in order.

“If I might… what were you about to ask me back at the camp?”

It seemed an adequate interlude. At least, good enough for her to respond.

“Ah… yes. Before I was interrupted by my poorly-timed brother,” she replied. “I had been meaning to speak with you for some time, actually… About my brother, in fact.”

The implication was not missed. The bard felt himself turning a bit red despite himself. Luckily, Alisaie’s sword did not provide enough light for it to be noticed. “…Go on.”

“I suppose you might have presumed this conversation to be coming at some point. You and he are not exactly subtle about your interactions. As much as you’d like to imagine otherwise.”

“I… can’t exactly say that I noted us being especially obvious.”

“You may want to revise your plan of action then.” She was amused, clearly. But there was more on her mind, that much the Warrior was sure of. Had she wanted to tease and only tease, she would have done so openly before now. He was certain that she was not the only one who had noticed, but he’d hoped that it hadn’t been so prevalent that everyone had noticed… They did, after all, need to maintain a certain decorum, given their status both as individuals and as a part of a greater unit. At least, he’d assumed they’d had to. “But beyond my observation of messy housekeeping, so to speak, I needed to ask you something much more personal. I would ask forgiveness for doing so, but you have to understand. He is my brother.”

The bard nodded. He did understand. And so Alisaie took in a breath and let it out slowly. As if carefully considering her words.

“…What is your plan? For the long term?”

He blinked in surprise. Not quite… sure how to answer that just yet. But luckily so, as it seemed as though she wasn’t quite done.

“You and I both know that we are in the business of danger. I realize it is not something that we frequently discuss, as my brother’s blinding optimism very often overshadows talks of that nature, but for that reason, it’s something we should discuss. What happens when our mission drives us towards the ends of Eorzea and we face a certain end? What then? Would you risk your very life for this mission? Or would you consider the very reality that you now confront in that you would not just be leaving behind stories or a legend or even a myth?”

He was taken aback but barely managed to utter a word before she interrupted again.

“You would be leaving behind your friends. You would be leaving behind someone who cares now. Not just for you as the Warrior of Light nor as the Savior of Eorzea. Someone who cares for you. What then would you do? Perform a noble sacrifice and leave naught for us to save? Naught for him to save? Or will you place the fate of Eorzea behind those who you find important? Have you even thought of any of this? Because now you must.” She was breathing a little hard when her words finally tapered off into a frustrated murmur. One that the bard didn’t quite catch beyond a mention of heroes being ‘all the same’.

There was a pregnant pause for quite some time before he could muster up a response to it all. Eyes were down on his fingers which he could see now had smears of blood on the fabric of his gloves.

“Alisaie, I - I can’t help but be honest so… I will be honest.” Alphinaud’s face was hovering somewhere in the back of his mind as he said it. “I didn’t… leave home expecting to be a hero. I left with full intent to die somewhere on a battlefield facing down a horde of imperials. I knew that was probably an inevitability. What with the calamity and all…” Leaning back against a rock, he took in a breath and let it out slowly.

“When I started training on the shores of Limsa, it was with the knowledge that I would go and fight and… not really care what else happened. But when I left for Gridania and started… getting involved in things, I didn’t realize how quickly I was being… pulled up and into the light. I was suddenly an adventurer and then a soldier in the Twin Adder and then…” The Warrior trailed off to pull together the rest of what he wanted to say, bringing a hand up to wipe at his forehead again.

“And then I met your brother. And you but… Of course, you drifted to go and do your own things but your brother was… there. And I’d never met someone who was so eager to pull me up and onto a pedestal for the rest of Eorzea to rely on. And perhaps it was… a bit much, at first, but I… fell into it. I fell into his enthusiasm and his pride and his resilience. We faced imperials and beastmen and… gods, I dove head first into wars with primals on his behest simply because he… believed that I could. And yet the more and more I realized that there was something driving me forward, I knew that it certainly wasn’t the fate of Eorzea that was doing it.”

Alisaie was listening, though ill satisfied until the mention of her brother settled her down, watching the Warrior closely for any sign that he was… lying or covering something up. Or hiding something from her. But he seemed earnest and she was inclined to let him keep going despite the furious redness of his cheeks which could have either been attributed to his embarrassment or the amount of heat that was building in their enclosed area.

“It was always Alphinaud. Telling me that I had to come back. Telling me that the Scions and the Crystal Braves and Eorzea were all counting on me. And… he eventually became the main reason I ever came back at all. Because he waited. And he trusted. And he worried. Nobody has ever worried about me, Alisaie.” His shoulders slumped, having spilled about as much truth as he felt he ever had. He’d always been closed off, at least for the most part. He was polite and generally a cheery person but… There were lots of thoughts that he had a tendency to never share. The bard had always figured that in the grand scheme, how he felt about things mattered very little.

“He keeps me going… And I’d like to think that if it came down to choosing to sacrifice myself for the good of Eorzea and finding another way so that I could remain at his side, then… I know what the people would want to hear. But I also know how I actually feel.” He assumed she could glean his true response from that and eventually turned his attention to her.

“I apologize. I know that’s a lot to take in. But… I love him, Alisaie.”

The last words were said with a small murmur, met with silence from the other for a time as they both mulled over the exchange. The Warrior was admittedly getting a little bit dizzy, unsure as to whether or not it was because of the conversation or because of the blood loss. Or because of the heat. He didn’t know.

“Then there is something you must understand,” Alisaie finally said in reply, moving to settle closer to him. To ensure that he heard her. Because it was important. And there really was no better time to say so. They were confined. And better him to know now than to delve deeper into a hole that seemingly had no bottom.

“My brother and I have always been close. Despite what he may tell you, I’ve always felt it to be my task to look after the things he does. Even if he considers the situation to be the other way around. We both act in the name of the House of Leveilleur and in the name of our father. And our grandfather, as I’m sure you know. There are… family ties there that we will never be rid of. And that is something that comes with being… involved. In any capacity. It is a deal, so to speak. Because your intention can never be to pull him away from what has made him himself. Do you understand what I mean?”

The Warrior only took a brief moment or two to process what she was saying before offering a resolute nod.

“I understand. I am and have always been, for all intents and purposes, nothing more than a boy who ran away from a home and from a family. I deprived myself of… many things. And I would not wish that upon someone with obligations that I did not have. He will never be made to believe that he has to abandon anything that he already knows to appease me.”

“And you are settled with that belief?” She asked. Making absolute certain. She was no expert in relationships, but she had an inkling with the things she’d observed in the past that they had the capacity to be… complex. Rough. Decisive and with the ability to tear down walls and other such horrible things.

“Alisaie,” the bard breathed in a slow exhale. “I have yet to even tell him everything I’ve told you. He knows I’m… attached, but little else. If only out of the belief that it would only serve to be a distraction from what he should be viewing as much more important.”

“Then you must promise me.”

He glanced up at her again, head tilted slightly to the side. Promise what?

“You must promise me that you will do what is best for him. Because what is best for him is best for me. And while I am fully aware that your heart only lay with him and not me, it still affects me. And what I do for him and with him.”

He was surprised, in all honesty. Did not imagine that she would have as much a stake in his feelings for Alphinaud as she did, but really… What else was he to expect? They were twins. That was about as close as one could get to a family member or sibling. There was undoubtedly a bond there. How foolish was he to not consider that?

But he did not chide himself about it, no. Instead, he offered her a bit of a weary smile.

“Alisaie, I have been devoid of any true connections or, I might say family, for a long time. Who am I to refuse you if you wish to be that invested in my feelings for your brother? Regardless of your reasoning. And because of that, I promise you that I will not only do what is best for him, but what is best for both of you.”

“No matter the end?” Alisaie asked with a hard stare. As if daring him to say otherwise.

“No matter the end.”

There was no other answer.

—

They spoke for a while longer. On less important things. The Warrior offered some tales of his past while Alisaie responded with stories of her own. There was some rudimentary plucking of his harp somewhere along the line as she took some time to attempt to figure out how he generally played it when he did play it. She was not very musical, however. At least not with the harp. He didn’t get a chance to ask her about much else before they were interrupted by a sudden rumble from outside, urging them both to their feet as Alisaie pulled her sword from the dirt and held it in her proper stance.

“Someone is out there. Either our own or the imperials have sprung another trap.”

The bard held a finger up to his lips to shush her before drifting closer to the rocks that kept them housed in their (hopefully) temporary shell, pressing an ear against the cool stone and listened. His hearing was keen - it helped when you were musically inclined - and he could hear voices. Certainly not those of the imperials. In fact, one of the voices was strangely familiar…

“We need to find a way to signal them that we’re in here. Those are no Garleans,” he decided after a moment more of listening, going to fetch his bow and harp. Thinking. How could they without creating too much force that may end up just sealing their fate? Any sort of magicks or light would be too dangerous.

…But perhaps…

“Your harp.” She managed to say what he was thinking. Unsurprising. She was quick. “Do you think you could play loud enough for them to hear you?”

For the first time since they’d been entombed, he offered her a smug look.

“I am ill-suited for much else, my friend.”

Because he could play. And he could play loud, lifting that harp and giving a few gentle plucks to find the right tone and timbre of sound. It had to be just right. He had no real energy to sing just then, but the music didn’t need a voice to it this time. It would stand on his own as he got fingers to give a heavy and defining strum of the chords, sending the notes reverberating off of the rocks and hopefully through the cracks that they could not see with their own eyes. High in volume though it was, it was unmistakably a recognizable string once he began and did not stop. In fact, he resigned himself to not stop until he saw a result. If his fingers bled in the process, then that was what it would take. They needed to get out of this. They needed to return to the Reach. They needed to return to the one person who they both knew was waiting for them. And so on the bard played.

Until an alarming shift of the rocks above them caught them both in a panic. But instead of coming down, they were slowly rolling away, revealing the blinding sunlight that awaited them. Relieving though it was, both Alisaie and the bard had to shield their eyes, unable to see exactly who it was who had pulled away the rocks; whether it was to rescue them or to finish the job.

They both breathed a little easier when their saviors came into view: soldiers of the Twin Adder, extending hands to them both to pull them up and onto the mound of rocks instead of beneath them. The Warrior was quick to offer Alisaie a boost up first. She was smaller and lighter. He could get himself out most of the way, peering over the tomb to spy a figure standing surprised and seemingly delighted a few fulms away.

“…Ivy?”

The Warrior’s genuine surprise seemed to catch the red-headed Hyur woman in a rather good mood, as she gave a giddy laugh in response, pressing hands together.

“Why if it isn’t my stalwart singing companion! It’s been a while since we’ve come across each other, no?”

She was slender and on the shorter side, not unlike Alisaie’s stature, but with the blaring red coat that indicated not only her status but prowess with a blade, it was clear that the woman was formidable. And none of this was regarding the fact that she seemed to be leading a small squad of Adder soldiers on some sort of mission or other. It was almost amusing. The grand company in Gridania had been where they’d initially run into each other, putting their heads together on some of their early missions within the ranks and engaging in battle side by side on more than one occasion. But when tensions had begun to grow in Ul’Dah, their duties had taken them on separate paths. It was a wonder she was this close to Ala Mhigo at all. But he certainly wasn’t complaining.

“I figured it would be some time before I ran into the infamous Ivy Higgs again,” he responded tiredly, reaching for the next yellow-clad soldier’s offered hand.

“Not soon enough!” Ivy said, all grins. “I have to say, this was a lucky find. We’d heard that there were imperials close by and decided to come and investigate to ensure that they were driven out of this area and back towards whatever Castrum they have situated beyond the hills. I suppose they got the drop on you this time.”

“I suppose so.”

Alisaie dusted herself off, having not left the top of the mound, perhaps to have some sort of higher ground over this opposing red mage who seemed a little too suspiciously friendly. Though she did not say as much. “Speaking of the imperials, I believe they are still here somewhere. We did not hear them depart. Did you run into any patrols on the way here? Their magitek reapers would be particularly noticeable.”

Ivy shook her head. Though she would soon come to regret the act of not bothering to explore the area further, as the reunion was swiftly interrupted by another shift in the ground beneath them and the cliff face above them.

“What now?” Alisaie questioned with a groan of frustration, attention turned upwards to the cliff. It was an act that was not swift enough to formulate a plan to avoid the second onslaught of falling rocks, instead interrupted by a forceful shove which knocked her clear off the mound and into the dirt below with a grunt of pain. There was a curse somewhere in there as she glanced up at the pile of rock and boulder which suddenly exploded into crumbles as the Warrior took nearly the full force of the falling debris on himself. He’d been quick to push Alisaie out of the way with little time to leap away himself.

When the dust cleared, he could still see the sunlight. Which meant he wasn’t completely trapped once more. Which was… good. But he soon realized that his lower half was not quite responding in the way he wanted it to. And with a terse breath, he turned head to see that he was still half buried. The price he paid for not considering the consequence of not moving away from the site of their previous entrapment quickly enough.

“Seven hells,” Alisaie hissed as she got back to her feet and rushed towards where the Warrior lay as he struggled to free his torso and legs. But without assistance, there was little point. All he could do was glance upwards to the cliff to spy the unmistakable sheen of the black magitek armor above. They’d succeeded in getting the drop on him twice. And he was not proud. But there was little to be done now. Even as he watched Ivy unsheathe her own sword and order two of the soldiers to accompany her up to dispatch the force waiting above, leaving another three behind to assist Alisaie’s now furious efforts to dig the Warrior free from the crushing weight of the rocks.

“You idiot,” she growled as she sent splinters of rock and stone this way and that, continuing to dig while the soldiers came to help. One took a moment to try and convince her to let them handle it, but she refused, instead continuing to dig while another hand came up to try again with the linkpearl, hopeful as it hissed and crackled to life.

“Alphinaud! Quick, I need you at the rendezvous point. Bring a chirurgeon. Now.”

She left little time for him to respond before continuing her efforts. And even though the Warrior’s vision was quickly turning black, he managed to offer her a mumble of thanks before eventually losing consciousness. He had a promise to keep and he drifted off, certain that she would not let him forget it so soon after making it.

No matter the end.

—

In the minutes that passed while the Warrior was unconscious, Ivy and her Adders made short work of the imperial soldiers that lingered on the cliff up above. The reapers, however, were a more difficult task to handle and were not disposed of until after Alphinaud and a group of resistance soldiers came running from the camp to offer assistance. He almost joined them in the fray, until he spied Alisaie’s desperate scrambling not far away. That pulled his attention to the downed bard and the sudden realization of just what needed to be done. So he swallowed his own panic and barked at the remaining resistance soldiers to help move the rest of the rocks.

With enough help, the rocks would eventually roll free and Alisaie ducked down to pull the Warrior out of immediate danger, joined soon by Alphinaud who seemed to do a rapid inspection of his unconscious form for any glaring injuries. But it was difficult to discern without a proper eye. Even the chirurgeon that accompanied them was only able to place a moderate balm on things before he made it apparent that they needed to get him back to the camp. A task which Alphinaud placed himself in charge of very readily, instructing one of the Roegadyn to carry the Warrior back as fast as he could. Joined quickly by Ivy and her soldiers, it was not long before the company was on their way back to the Reach.

Nobody spoke much of anything. With the Warrior of Light in such a precarious status, there was little to say.

—

It was at least a day and a half before the bard managed to open his eyes again, groggy and sore as he came back around into consciousness. He didn’t bother to move too much just yet, head pounding as he brought a hand up to press against his temple, fingers meeting the fabric of a few bandages. That explained the headache. What it didn’t explain though was the ache in his ribs and where he actually was at the moment. Glancing around, he noted stone walls and a door that closed him off from what he assumed was the rest of the building. He could hear voices outside, but he couldn’t quite make heads or tails of any one voice in particular.

At least not until the door opened and he turned his head to catch sight of white hair and a red ribbon. He thought it to be Alphinaud, at first glance, but the way she carried herself and the neutral beige of her outfit gave it away as Alisaie instead. Not that he was bothered, especially considering she’d come in to deliver him something to drink. A godsend, now that he was realizing that he was thirsty, sitting upright some as Alisaie turned to face him finally once she’d heard him shift.

“Ah. So you are awake. I thought you might need something to drink in case you came to. It’s nice to know my intuition was correct.” She smiled and drifted over to the bed, offering the cup to the Warrior as he returned that little smile in kind. He noted, however, that she had certainly not come out of the encounter unscathed. Most of her fingers were bandaged and it was reason enough for him to offer her a concerned look.

“…What happened, Alisaie?” He asked after a moment of attempting to recall what exactly had gone down after they’d been rescued, only to realize that he was struggling to do so. The question only resulted in a small frown from her as she found a chair to settle down in next to the bed.

“The Imperials didn’t give us much chance to get out entirely. Except you decided to be self-sacrificing,” she added with a sigh. “And pushed me out of the way so you could get crushed along with the insects in the dirt.” The look she offered him was judgemental and upset. Though there was a softness to her words that he didn’t anticipate. Regardless, he felt the pang of guilt somewhere in his chest and he looked up at her apologetically.

“Force of habit,” he said, reaching out to take hold of one of her hands. Looking over her fingers carefully. “…You tried to get me out, I take it.”

She almost pulled her hand back instinctively, but she allowed it, for now, still looking at him critically.

“Yes, well, whose fault is that?”

The anger in her voice was palpable and he shrunk back against the pillow he’d been resting his head on. Still, for all intents and purposes, looking like a puppy who’d been caught tearing up the garden.

“I hadn’t anticipated having to make good on that promise so soon. But… I also didn’t intend to try and break it, either. I let my guard down. I shouldn’t have.” The Warrior breathed out a slow sigh, keeping his hold on her hand. He didn’t feel very inclined to let go. Though he was unsure of whether the feeling had been reciprocated or not, what they’d shared in their temporary rock housing had meant quite a bit to him. It had opened up the path for what he considered a deeper understanding of each other. And he liked to hope that the sense was mutual. Even if Alisaie’s current state of disgruntled attitude spoke otherwise. But even she seemed to have a limit to her temper, eyes falling down to their joined hands as the bard muttered out a heartfelt apology in the form of “I’m sorry”.

“You’d better be,” she said in reply. She wanted to be stern, but it was difficult, considering he was laying there with a bruised body and genuine remorse. Mayhap she was being too hard on him, but to admit that she had been worried would be admitting her faults a little too brazenly. Even if they had developed a better understanding, she was still adamant about maintaining a certain air. But she set aside the rough tone in her voice for the time being, softening it just a touch at her continuation.

“Because if you’re going to be involved with my brother, you’ll need to be proper. You’ll need to be a man who upholds his promises. Otherwise, you’ll never convince my father that you’re of any use at all.”

The Warrior blinked a few times in confusion, staring at her with head half-cocked. As if he’d heard her wrong.

“Your… father?”

Alisaie’s smug look said really all he needed to know, but her elaboration gave further context.

“Well, my brother and I were speaking the other day… Considering what the course of action was once we managed to finish our business in Ala Mhigo, if you’ll forgive the optimism. It was his conversation starter. But we came to the conclusion that it would be nice to revisit our father in Sharlayan. We’ve not seen him in many moons and it would behoove us to tell him of exactly what we’ve been up to in our time with the Scions. Or, at least, as much as we’re able to divulge. And I am making the assumption that you would be wont to accompany us, should the invitation be apparent.”

He cleared his throat a bit. That certainly was a tall order. Despite all of his accomplishments and titles, he didn’t often feel as though his presence was warranted in many social situations. He was an awkward fool at parties since he’d grown out of his youthful knack for flirtations, and rarely did he have very much to say in terms of intelligent conversation. He felt dwarfed in snappy dialogue in comparison to the twins. But then again, he’d never really been offered the invitation to join someone’s family affairs. And he recognized the implication behind it.

“I… don’t think I would argue otherwise,” he finally said with a small smile. There was a moment of instinctual habit that made him pull her in by the hand just a bit, setting his other hand gently atop her head as he set his forehead against hers in a brief and considerate gesture of gratitude. It was enough to catch her off guard, but not enough for her to protest. He was different, this she knew. And far be it from her to deny him his quirks, whatever they may be. So she offered a smile in return for the brief contact.

“Thank you, Alisaie.”

When they parted, her smile remained, though she was quick to shrug her shoulders and return back to her generally nonchalant demeanor. They would likely not speak of this in public, which was fine for her. It was not often that she found it pertinent to share any private conversations.

“I’ll send my brother in. He’s been in a state since we returned. He’ll be glad to know you’re awake.”

The Warrior simply nodded and turned to settle back down in the bed. Honestly, just being awake was tiring. But he wasn’t about to allow sleep to take him again until he saw Alphinaud. But he would take a small reprieve in the minutes that passed between when Alisaie shut the door behind her and her brother appeared in a breathless panic in the same doorway.

“You’re awake! Thank the Twelve,” Alphinaud said with a relieved sigh as he walked over to the bed and took his place on the chair that his sister had left behind. “I was beginning to worry that you might not. It’s been maddening the amount of questioning I’ve received asking of your whereabouts. Telling people you are resting doesn’t quite seem to quell the worry as much as I would have liked it to.” He shook his head, obviously exhausted. If the Warrior had to take a guess, he would say that his friend had not been sleeping very well, if at all.

“Well, you can tell them now that I will be fine. And I will be happy to return to the front as soon as I can.”

Alphinaud frowned, reaching up with slender fingers to brush them along the bandages that were wrapped snugly around the bard’s head, clearly disapproving of the circumstances that had resulted in his injuries. But if the Warrior had to go through a list of apologies once again, it would take them all evening before he could start making up for it.

“Not too soon,” Alphinaud muttered. “Your injuries were not major, but you won’t be much good for another few days yet. You did have rocks dropped on you, after all.” He sighed, running fingers through his own hair next. It was a little unkempt, but not much. He had at least a moderate amount of pride in his appearance. The only bits that were disheveled were a result of sleep deprivation. “I am only sorry that I did not get there sooner… Perhaps I could have prevented it.”

“If you start blaming yourself, I’m going to go back to sleep,” the bard warned with a raise of his eyebrows. “This was not your fault. There is no blame to be placed on anyone but the imperials. They caught us in a rare moment of reprieve. And I will assure you that it will not happen again. Yes?” He didn’t want Alphinaud to enter into a bout of self-pity and what-ifs. He’d seen enough of that to last a lifetime in Coerthas. Their exile was not an event to be re-lived by any means.

The elezen’s shoulders slumped and he nodded, a little defeated. He had little to say to that and resigned himself to drop the subject. For now, anyway. His private thoughts would continue to hound him for his own responsibility, but that too would pass in time.

“Humor me and allow me to keep you company tonight,” he said once he’d settled down, watching the Warrior’s expression in return which was a relieving mix of contentment and relaxation. Somewhere in the back of Alphinaud’s mind was an image of the outcome had he arrived too late and had to carry only a body back to the Reach. It gave him an ache in his chest that was only soothed by the bard’s words in reply.

“Read to me?”

It was no secret that the Warrior of Light was no scholar. Alphinaud figured that mayhap that was what made them such a good pair. Not that he would say so aloud for fear of embarrassing himself. He was not quite familiar with such expressions and wanted to be certain that the first time he mentioned something that steeped in romance that he got it right. But for now, their gazes could meet and Alphinaud knew for certain that he’d made no mistake in his choice.

“If you insist,” he said with a playful sigh, standing to retrieve a thin tome from the far end of the room after some consideration. He was ever a lover of history and the particular story about one historian’s journey through the far reaches of the sea seemed like a good choice. So he would settle back into that chair and dive into it readily, tired as he was, if only to fall into a comfortable togetherness with the Warrior that he was oh-so-fond of.

The Reach was peaceful in the evening; an almost glaring contrast to the battle fever of the day. And the bard was content to bask in the quietness of the room he and Alphinaud occupied, listening to the words flow and bend to create imagery that he could only really hope to see himself some day.

Someday. And he hoped that on that day, he would share the tale with not just one but two. Each with their own heavy significance but neither worth less than the other.

A new family to call his own. A new bond to have and to protect.

No matter the end.


End file.
